Naomi stood up and walked over towards Expatriot. Doll-like? Cute? She supposed that was a good thing. It was intended for infiltration, after all, so anything that made her seem less imposing was a credit to the design team. As she approached, olfactory sensors and biometrics began to pop up warnings and detailed analysis of the sweaty villain. It seemed that the events in France had taken a deep hold within her. She put up a tough facade, for certain, but that fear could prove the team's undoing. Expatriot was the glue that held them together. She needed to be perfect. If not for her own sake, then for the team's.

Once Naomi stood next to her, though, it was tough to find the words. She had come to deeply respect the woman. For all her baggage and the mysteries involved with her origin, Betsy was the closest thing that she had to a friend. Anyone else that she might consider as such worked for her and the power differential was, frankly, impossible to overcome. She decided to start on a different topic and work her way back to that. Naomi nodded at the bag, "Nice work. There's something I wanted to run by you. Some of my contacts from the garage..." As clear a hint as she was willing to make. "...contacted me. They have a method of opening that box we got from the manor. I'm quite interested in what is inside."

Yes. Great. This was going well. Naomi decided to charge on, quietly continuing, "I must admit I'm a bit worried about you." She tipped her head towards the bag. "Your movements are sloppier than usual. A full 15% variation in impact point from strike to strike. I've seen you at your best. This isn't it. The thing with... him." It was tough to bring up Expat's baggage like that. It made her think of what she would do if someone brought up her own. "You need to get your head in the game. I doubt he's going to give up after the beating we gave him in France. If he shows up, when he shows up, we're going to need you at your peak."

quote:

Naomi paused for a moment, continuing a bit louder, "And as much good as you're doing with Anarchy, my projections indicate an unacceptably large possibility of failure and/or dismemberment. If we want our team to win, we will need to secure every possible advantage. Why play fair when we can play smart?"

BP proposes the following caper: Help Anarchy survive and win the competition with ludicrous amounts of cheating!

...they shall march out of my laboratory and sweep away every adversary, every creed, every nation, until the very planet is in the loving grip of the Pax Bisonica. And then peace will reign, and the world, and all humanity, shall bow to me in humble gratitude...

Whisperwind stalked the streets, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, eyes focused on the penthouse of a downtown skyscraper. So this was the place. He glanced down on his phone, where the records he had removed and stolen so long ago were now stored, just to make sure. Yup. This was definitely it.

Whisperwind entered the building, passing by the suit-clad enforcers of Don Sharlack dispersed about the building without as much as sparing them a glance. Normally something that would earn you a datenight with the fishes, but not so for Whisperwind, for no matter how sharp the guards were, he had dealt with much worse lately. He was better. And he was determined. Not even the Don's personal manservant noticed him, even in the close proximities of the elevator they took to the very top. It didn't take long then, until Whisperwind was alone with the Don and his dinner in the penthouse. With unheard steps he approached, until he was hovering right behind the man.

"Haha."

"Is that lobster thermidore? Pretty swanky."

The Don gasped with a startle, and immediately reached for his gun. But he was not fast enough.

"Shhh", Whisperwind hissed as he worked his suggestions onto the confused man, "It's all cool. I'm with BRANCH you know?"

"BRANCH..." the man repeated.

"Yeah, BRANCH", Whisperwind repeated with a nod, "A super unimaginative name isn't it? Filled with dumb brats that think themselves important because they have a stupid acronym", the man merely blinked lazily as Whisperwind weaved his spells, his face now so close to the old man that the bright white of his illusionary facade against the backdrop of the impenetrable blackness of his hood took up the entirety of the mafia boss' field of view, "Like, what self-respecting criminal would even associate with a daycare like them, right?", the Don responded with a slow nod, "You certainly wouldn't, would you? In fact you've probably never dealt with such people right?"

There was a moment of silence. The moment of truth.

"That's right..." the man finally said.

"Good boy~"

"Haha."

Whisperwind gently tapped the man's cheek, and then he was gone. The Don, for his part, merely blinked a few times, shrugged, and continued his dinner. Completely unaware that the last record of Black Lotus' transgressions had been eradicated along with his memories, as if they had never existed in the first place. The girl was free now.

...

Perhaps she would be willing to consider a new employer?
______________________________________

"...Nice suit", Whisperwind stated, his feet on the table and his hands behind his head, "I see you finally got all self-conscious about your old, bulky self Manhands."

"Haha."

"But to be serious for a moment, that seems like a pretty good idea. It's got my vote, at least", Whisperwind stated, almost as if his thoughts were somewhere else.

"Oh and by the way Nethers? I brought you your thing. A pair of Spellpiercers straight from the college of metamagic. They don't come cheap or without the right connections. Still, all yours", Whisperwind tossed a little box with two fairly unassuming brass knuckles inside of it to the girl.

Righto, didn't actually make my caper moves fully so I put them here. Whisperwind is Striking out on a Caper of his own (+Trouble, -Danger since he's being a sneaky sneak about it).

And my Assets:

Spellpiercer Knuckles (Netherwrath gets these): A pair of items, custom fitted and personally enchanted by professors emeritus of the Oxford College of Metamagic, these don't come cheap or without knowledge of the right strings to pull. Punch a spell or magic construct with them and watch them fizzle into nothingness.

A whole bunch of cash: Smart to keep some of this in reserve in case WW needs to pay people in the future.

As my Advance I take "Rearrange your Labels as you choose, and add +1 to a Label", since I realized after writing this that I was in fact one Advance short on recruiting a henchman (sure this means I kinda waste that post caper move but I'm not rewriting that ), so Black Lotus gets to do her own thing for a while before deciding that working for WW is clearly the most bestest option.

Also, Seconding BP's Plan.

Theantero fucked around with this message at Mar 11, 2017 around 02:15

"Thanks, sweetie!" Netherwrath smiled delightedly at his response, and set PT down gently in his seat. She brushed some splinters from his lap, then leaned over and gave him a chaste peck on the cheek. "I'm heading back, let me know if there's a doggie bag."

Netherwrath sauntered off into the night, leaving Phantom Thief with the bill, but taking with her a curious sense of fulfillment. She hadn't felt this upbeat since the Louvre. Sometimes all you needed to see was someone making GBS threads themselves in your presence to remind you of one important fact; there's no need to dwell on emotional issues when you can simply externalise them! Maybe she'd go on another date with Phantom Thief sometime. It seemed to be therapeutic.

PT gains influence over Netherwrath, she clears doubting, and he can shift her labels as he already had influence.

Back at home base (which may have been either before or after her date), Netherwrath pocketed her new weapons with a professional nod to Whisperwind. Yes, he was still worth working for, at least a little while longer. "I agree with BP's plan as long as I get to beat the crap out of at least one upper card villain while we do it. No petty mafia muscle, I'm talking someone who's like INTERPOL's top twenty most wanted or something. I'm ranked way too low on the BRANCH leaderboards."

"That's not a bad idea. I have some new gadgets that need testing, and booby trapping a track field is a great way to determine their precision and delayed triggers on a herd of unsuspecting targets. I fourth that motion!"